


The Wedding Singer

by jericho



Category: Backstreet Boys
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-08
Updated: 2012-06-08
Packaged: 2017-11-07 06:41:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/428069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jericho/pseuds/jericho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick is ticked off that his usual sex partner, Kevin, is getting married, so he decides to find a new one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wedding Singer

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2000. My note from then: "Okay, I know shit about Kevin's wedding. I know it was small and in Kentucky but I don't know where the reception was held."

It was a nice big house with white siding and fresh brick in the middle of the nice state of Kentucky, surrounded by nice shrubbery perfectly trimmed for the occasion and a nice garden out back. Everything was just nice, nice, nice, and Howie couldn't decide whether to be cluelessly happy or sickened by it. 

Music spilled out and as Howie walked through the backyard, he could see the bride and groom and their assortment of friends pass by the large, freshly-polished windows. Kevin had been a married man for...what, five hours? Wild. 

Howie took a swig of his apple cooler, not quite sure why he was drinking an apple cooler in the first place. It must have been the first thing he grabbed from the bar. He looked down at the bottle, wondering how many calories were in a thing like this, wondering how many he'd have to drink to stop thinking about Kevin being married. Kevin had always been a strange creature, so serious and whipsmart but not entirely suave when it came to interpersonal relationships. But Kristin must have seen something in him. And maybe Kevin was the smart one. At least Kevin was getting laid. 

Howie hadn't been laid in...what, six months? God, had it been that long? He had no interest in the 2.2 kids and the white picket fence. Okay, maybe there was a fence in his future, but probably no kids and definitely no wife. His family already knew this, and although they still held the belief that all it would take was a nice girl to straighten him out, he was pretty sure that his kind of sex didn't jive with Kevin's. But getting laid was not easy when he lived in a bubble, surrounded by media who wanted pictures of everything and fans who wouldn't let him eat dinner with his family in peace, interrupting him just as he had worked up the nerve to tell his parents he was gay. It also wasn't easy when his first reaction to getting hit on was still to giggle, even 26 years into his life. And giggling, generally, did not get people laid. 

Howie giggled a little at the thought of this and realized he might be a little drunk. 

He passed a bird bath, moving to flick the water with his fingers and then realizing what bird baths were used for. He kept walking, over the bumpy but perfectly manicured lawn, around the ornaments of elves and little men fishing and lawn shadows of dogs chasing cats up trees. He neared the white painted gate that led into where all the flowers were grown and heard a noise. Nick. It was pretty hard not to pick Nick's voice out of any scenario, even when it was midnight in a dark back yard. Nick was mumbling something, seething in usual Nick style. But who he was talking to was anyone's guess. 

Howie rounded the corner to find Nick sitting on one of the concrete dividers, his head in his hands. He was alone. 

Howie took another swig of his drink and announced his appearance. "What are you doing?" 

"Interpreting dance." Nick didn't look up. "What does it look like I'm doing?" 

Howie strolled closer. "It looks like you're sitting back here freaking out about something. But I mean, _why_ are you doing it?" 

Nick's head jerked up and he looked Howie in the eyes. "Why do you think I'm doing it? Kevin's married now." 

"Yeah but..." Howie stepped back and spread his arms. "But that's a happy thing. It's a happy day." 

"For you, maybe," Nick said, resting his head in his hands again. "It sucks for me." 

"Why?" 

Nick shook his head, reaching in the pocket of his suit and pulling out a fat joint. He took his time lighting it, inhaling deeply, blowing the smoke into the air with much fanfare. His eyes were glazed over, his tie off and top few shirt buttons undone, his hair messy from running his hands through it. "Why do you think?" 

Howie stepped closer, watching Nick take another deep toke. "I don't know. Because you're worried about what the fans will think?" 

"Fuck what the fans think," Nick spat. "It's not about that." 

"Well then...." Howie shrugged helplessly, waving his cooler in the air. "Throw me a bone here." 

Nick exhaled smoke in a perfect circle. "Because Kevin and I were fucking." 

Howie stumbled, moving like a washing machine, one half turn and then back again. He knew his jaw had dropped and his eyes had widened. "Come again?" 

"Kevin. And. I. Were. Fucking." 

Howie couldn't help it. He laughed right out loud, right in front of Nick, throwing his head back and raising his arms in disbelief, or maybe comic relief. "Are you serious?" 

Nick's glare answered the question for him. "What's so funny?" 

"Nothing. I just...." Howie searched his brain but couldn't find any words to explain himself, so he took another swig of his potent cider and swallowed hard. "Nothing's funny. I'm sorry. But you know, I'm sure you can find another guy to sleep with, if that's what you want. I mean, you weren't, like, in love with him or anything, were you?" 

"Of course not," Nick said, just a little too quickly. He extended the joint to Howie and Howie took a long drag, holding the smoke in for as long as he could, thinking that maybe getting good and stoned was exactly the thing he needed. 

"I mean hell," Howie said, his voice a little strained from holding his breath, "I'll sleep with you if that's what you want." 

Nick laughed a little, probably the worst possible reaction. Howie laughed too, trying to act like he got the joke. "With you?" Nick said incredulously. 

"Yeah," Howie said, still laughing, mimicking putting a gun to his head and pulling the trigger. Nevermind then, kid, Howie thought. Keep your orgasms to yourself. It wasn't like I wanted you in the first place. How did he keep walking into these ego-crushing conversations with Nick, saying stupid things to set himself up so Nick could laugh and make another sarcastic comment? 

"Okay," Nick said. "I mean, okay, if that's what you want." 

Howie was still smiling. "That's not what I want," he said into his bottle. "I wouldn't touch you with a ten foot pole." 

"Oh. Good." More laughter, and Howie started to feel a little drunker than he thought he was. 

Suddenly Nick leapt off the barrier, closing the distance between them, pressing his lips against Howie's so hard that it knocked Howie off balance. "The fuck?" Howie mumbled into his mouth, trying to stay in one place, trying to absorb Nick's clumsy kisses. Nick's hands were scrambling, untucking Howie's shirt, then one hand moving down to hurriedly grope Howie's crotch. 

"Whoah," Howie mumbled, trying to push Nick away gently. When Nick didn't take the hint, Howie's hands found Nick's shoulders and he pushed him away hard. "Whoah!" 

"Fuck you, then," Nick grumbled. 

"No, no, listen to me. If you want to do this, I don't think it should be, like...here. Right now. In this place." 

"Okay then. When?" 

Howie thought for a minute. When would be a good time to break his born again virginity? Tuesday? Perhaps Wednesday after the meet and greet? 

"Tomorrow night," Howie said. "I'll be in my room. You know where I'm staying. And if you still want to do this after you've sobered up and thought about it, come by around 10 o'clock." 

Nick threw the joint on the ground and crushed it with his heel. "Okay." 

Howie nodded slowly. "Oookay. Are you gonna be okay out here?" 

Nick ran his hands through his hair, trying to put the strands back in place. "Yeah. I'm good." 

"Okay." Howie turned slowly on his heel, heading back down the path toward the house, and couldn't help but giggle a little. If Nick showed, it would if nothing else be interesting. If Nick didn't show, at least Howie finally had something to bug him about. 

**** 

Sitting there on his bed in the hotel room, reading "Before Night Falls" by Reinaldo Arenas, Howie couldn't help but glance at the clock. The room was quiet and he was actually just kind of enjoying the solitude, lying there with a good book. But it didn't mean that he hadn't stopped by the drug store for supplies. Condoms, KY, a couple of neck ties from his own collection in case Nick liked it rough. There was no way in hell Nick was showing up, but then again, Howie could always use the stuff when hell froze over and pigs flew. 

At exactly 10 o'clock he heard a sharp knock at his door. He threw the book in surprise and it ended spine-up on the end of his bed. He looked at the clock. Looked at the door. Back at the clock. Back to the door. 

The knock came again. Howie slid off the bed into a standing position, walking across the room to the white door and the secured chain lock. He pressed his eye to the peep hole and saw a fish bowl-lense view of Nick shifting his weight nervously. 

Holy shit. He showed up. "This. Is not. A drill," Howie mumbled to himself, unlatching the chain and opening the door with a big smile. "Hi!" 

Nick returned the smile nervously. "Hi." 

Howie stood there for a second, just looking at him, probably grinning like a maniac. "Well...come on in." 

Nick walked in and looked around, hands in his pockets, trying to look nonchalant. But Howie could tell his heart was racing. Howie shut the door and locked it again, watching Nick, wondering how these "let's fuck casually, as friends" things went. 

"Have a seat," Howie said, passing Nick and sliding up onto the bed again. Nick sat down next to him, picking at his fingernails. "So you came." 

"Yeah," Nick replied. 

"So...what do you want to do?" 

Nick shrugged. "Whatever you want. You're the expert with this." 

Expert. Har har. Nick was probably getting more gay sex than Howie ever did. "Well, what do you and Kevin usually do?" Howie asked patiently. 

"Blow jobs mostly. Occasionally I'd fuck him or he'd fuck me, but usually all we had time for was blow jobs." Nick sounded like he was reading off a list of stuff he had to pick up at the store. Milk, eggs, toothpaste, blow jobs mostly. 

"Come here." Howie put his hand on Nick's shoulder and turned him to the side, leaning in and giving him a sweet kiss on the lips. Nick's hand flew to the back of Howie's head, clamping hard, his lips pressing into Howie's immediately and his tongue snaking into Howie's mouth. 

Howie broke free. "You have to slow down a little. Like, just enjoy this. Were you always this way with Kevin?" 

"No," Nick admitted. 

"Well, just relax. We're just having fun here. No big deal." He patted the bed next to him. "Lay down." 

Nick lay down obediently, resting his arms at his sides. Howie leaned down and kissed him sweetly again, a bit apprehensively at first in case Nick decided to grab him. He smiled against the kiss when he realized that Nick was behaving his damn self, just lying there and letting Howie kiss him. Howie slid down until he was lying next to Nick, his knuckles brushing lightly against Nick's jaw, their mouths opening and tongues sliding together, and Howie realized he was starting to get hard. They kissed like a couple of teenagers making out on a bed with parents in the next room, both still virgins, both just loving the feeling of another tongue to suck. After a moment Howie felt Nick's hand trail under his shirt, fingers drift up his spine. He sighed. 

Howie broke the kiss, keeping his eyes closed as he moved on to Nick's neck, brushing his lips along the smooth skin, stopping to catch Nick's earlobe between his teeth. He could tell Nick was fighting the urge to grab him and throw him down on the bed. Howie reached down and put his hand between Nick's legs, feeling a pulsing hard on under the denim. 

"God, you're easy," Howie whispered into Nick's ear. 

"Look who's talking," Nick mumbled back. 

The intensity of the kiss grew steadily, Howie sliding his hand under Nick's shirt and tweaking Nick's left nipple between his fingers. Nick responded by tugging at Howie's shirt, pulling until Howie stopped and let Nick pull it over his head. He stayed in place for a moment as Nick trailed his hand across Howie's chest. "You have such a great body," Nick said. 

"You're not so bad yourself." 

"Let's get naked." 

"Okay." 

There was the rustle of clothes being pulled off, the rough sound of zippers unzipping. Howie leaned over and flicked off the light, bathing the room in dark blue from the open window. It just seemed more intimate somehow. More appropriate for a first time. That, and if Howie came in less than a minute he could hide his sheepish expression. 

Howie ran his palm lightly along Nick's erection again, feeling it move a little from the touch. "Do you want me to suck this?" he asked. 

"Yeah," Nick said breathlessly. 

Howie moved down Nick's body, taking the guided tour, moving slowly so he could suck each of Nick's nipples to hardness, plant open mouthed kisses on Nick's stomach, trace a tiny circle around Nick's belly button with his tongue. When he finally reached the hard, twitching cock he ran his flattened tongue along the head of it. Nick groaned. 

Howie sucked it slowly for awhile, loving the familiar salty taste of hot skin and precome, tonguing the shaft to feel the delicate tracery of pulsing veins underneath. Nick spread his legs, obviously to urge Howie into moving lower, and Howie couldn't help but smile at the lack of subtlety. He moved down and sucked Nick's balls gently, rolling his tongue over them, licking until his tongue had a mind of its own. It squirmed down farther, Howie using his hands to part Nick's cheeks and snake his tongue inside. He realized he was grinding his own hips slowly, rubbing his hard on against the cool sheets, working himself into a frenzy that matched Nick's groans. He didn't need to have his eyes open to know that Nick was clutching the pillow, moving his hips in a slow rhythm against Howie's tongue. 

"Fuck," Nick gasped. "You're amazing at this." 

"Thank you," Howie mumbled, licking his way back up to Nick's cock, running his tongue along the shaft and back to the head, swiping at it in short, tickling licks. 

"Stop," Nick groaned. "I can't take it anymore. I need to come." 

"Not yet." Howie climbed back up Nick's body until their lips hovered close to each other, Howie grinding his own hard on against Nick's and making himself shudder. "We're going to fuck. Do you want top or bottom?" 

"Which do you want?" Nick asked. How polite. 

"I like bottom but it's been awhile." 

Suddenly Nick locked his arms around Howie and flipped him over, their positions reversed, Nick's mouth sucking and biting its way down Howie's body so quickly that Howie actually gasped. Within seconds Nick's mouth had enveloped Howie's cock, sucking with a quick and steady rhythm. Howie shuddered, extended a shaky arm and opened the drawer to the night table. He found the lube and threw it at Nick, who grabbed it as soon as it landed. 

Then Nick's finger slid inside him, finding the exact right spot and pressing on it, wiggling against it, sending shocks of pleasure up Howie's spine. "Jesus," Howie groaned. "You fucking...." By the time he got that far he forgot what he was going to say. 

Then there was a second finger, offset by Nick's bobbing head, his painfully quick sucks. "Stop," Howie said, locking his finger under Nick's chin and pulling his head away. "Not the whole thing, just the mouth. I'm not going to last long if you don't." 

Nick shrugged. He actually shrugged. "Okay," he said lightly, his fingers still sliding in and out of Howie. Howie felt himself moving against them, pushing his body down the bed so he could get them deeper. Nick rested his left elbow on the bed and his chin in his hand, watching Howie squirm and writhe. Howie could feel Nick's eyes on him, watching him with mild amusement and fascination, and he couldn't bring himself to care. 

Howie extended his shaky arm again and found the condoms, out of the box and in a long row at the front of the drawer. He ripped one off and tossed it at Nick. He lay there with his arm over his eyes, trying to catch his breath, listening to Nick rip one open and put it on and get himself ready for entry. 

"Back or stomach?" Nick asked. 

"I don't really care." 

Before Howie knew it Nick's hands were on him, flipping him over on his stomach. He felt Nick grab his hips and pull them towards him, his cock sliding in slowly. There it was, that feeling Howie thought about when he was masturbating, that just couldn't be recreated without another person. That feeling of being entered, the thickness of someone's cock inside of him, stretching him and filling him with heat. Howie rested his head against his forearm, letting his jaw drop and then snapping it shut to clench his teeth. Nick seemed to instinctively know to go slower, that at first this would bring a tiny tinge of pain and discomfort. So Nick pumped against him gently, opening him up, his hips slapping against Howie's ass. 

Once Howie got used to the feeling, once his prostate sent ripples of pleasure to the rest of his body, he reached down and wrapped his hand around his cock. "Harder," he mumbled. 

It seemed to be the cue Nick was waiting for. He dug his fingertips into Howie's hips and pulled them back in time with his thrusts. The rhythm was maddening, animal-like, holding Howie in place somewhere between tension and ecstasy, like the split second before an orgasm when he knew it was coming and was just waiting for it to arrive. He realized he was grunting in time with Nick's thrusts, biting into his own arm, his wrist working steadily as he jerked himself off. And suddenly the whole world screeched to a halt, and time hung suspended in the air, and his body froze as the first wave of his orgasm hit. It was hard, his body locked in the midst of a killer orgasm with Nick still thrusting into him, his pace not slowing. Finally Nick slammed into him one last time, his shaking hands gripping Howie's hips, his head probably thrown back and his sweaty face slack. 

Nick caught his breath and pulled out, climbing off the bed and heading towards the bathroom. Howie rolled over on his back, running his fingers across his slick stomach, waiting a minute to clean himself up. Nick left the door open, and Howie heard the condom plop in the toilet, and then the water run. Nick strolled back out with a towel and threw it at Howie. 

"Thanks," Howie said, dabbing himself with it. He motioned to a wet spot on the bed next to him. "Don't lay there." 

"I can't lay down anyway," Nick said, already reaching for his pants. "I have to go phone Mandy." 

Howie waved his hand in the air to show that it was fine with him, still looking down and trying to get the last traces of come off himself. Nick leaned over him and ran his hand across Howie's forehead, prompting Howie to lay his head back in the pillow. "Thank you," Nick said with a genuine smile, kissing Howie lightly. "We'll have to do this again." 

"When AJ gets married?" Howie asked, watching Nick round the bed and grab his shoes. 

"Nah," Nick said. "I was thinking more like this week." 

Twice in one week? Was he about to embark on a...gasp!...regular sex life? Even if it was with someone a lot younger than him who would rather fuck than kiss? 

"Okay," Howie said. 

Nick waved goodbye and shut the door behind him, leaving Howie in darkness. Howie sat up slowly, dropping the towel next to him, and surveyed the room. "Hey, why not?" he said out loud, and as usual when he realized he was talking to himself, he couldn't help but giggle a little. 

  



End file.
